


Blood Is Thicker (Than Wine)

by Strump



Series: Fraywood Brotp [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Upset!Clary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strump/pseuds/Strump
Summary: "Clary is Jocelyn Fairchild’s daughter, and if I hear you refer to her as Valentine’s Daughter again, you and I are going to have problems."Clary can't handle people calling her Valentine's daughter anymore. Alec helps her through it.Just a small oneshot!!!
Relationships: Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood
Series: Fraywood Brotp [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1119159
Kudos: 131





	Blood Is Thicker (Than Wine)

Clary is _tired_ of people referring to her as her family lineage. She hadn’t chosen her father. It isn’t her fault that he turned out to be a murderous psycho. She tries not to let it show, how much the words get to her. It comes to a head, though, when Lydia Branwell mentions it. Clary knows it had been wrong to come at her that way, but the question had been genuine. How _does_ she trust Lydia? How does she trust anyone that isn’t her own small, odd family? Jace, the Lightwood siblings, Simon and Luke. Anyone outside of that group is…well, untrustworthy. But then Lydia stares her in the eyes, gaze solid and unyielding. And she says, “You’re Valentine’s daughter, and I learned to trust you.”

Clary makes it around three corners and halfway down the hallway to her room before her legs buckle under her and she drops to her knees, stuffing a fist into her mouth to block the sobs that are rising through her chest. It hurts, having her homicidal family member shoved in her face so much. Especially from someone who is marrying an, albeit reluctant, member of her small, chosen family.

Clary closes her eyes and breaths heavily around her fist. Something unfamiliar is tightening in her chest, and she feels herself start to crumple around her knees, drawn up to her chest, choking and gasping for air through the iron fist that has her lungs.

“Clary, hey.” Through the buzzing in her ears, she hears a voice. There are hands on her shoulders, pushing her back flush against the wall. “Clary, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” The voice is frantic, one hand holding her against the wall and another brushing hair from her face, tugging at her hand in her mouth. “Clary, stop. Stop biting, stop!” The voice snaps sharply. Clary allows her fist to be pulled from her mouth, the copper taste of blood holding to her tongue. She squints and, through vision marred by tears, sees Alec. She starts, flinching backwards sharply. Alec reacts, shuffling away from her quickly with wide, concerned eyes. Clary doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look at her this way. “What’s wrong, Clary?” He asks, hands still encased around her trembling, bleeding fist. It takes her a few moments to compose herself. The words get stuck in her throat, so she lets out a shaky sob and tries again.

“It isn’t my fault, Alec.” She whispers. His expression drops, a guarded mask falling over his face. His lips press into a thin line, dark eyebrows drawing down.

“ _What_ wasn’t your fault, Clary?” He asks cautiously.

“My dad.” She whispers, shaking her head. “It isn’t my fault that he’s my dad.” Alec looks perplexed now, teeth absently scraping against the already torn skin of his bottom lip.

“What?” He asks in confusion.

“Everyone looks at me like I’m the enemy. But it’s not my fault that he’s my dad, I didn’t even know until a few months ago.” She shakes her head and looks away. “Why…why does everyone hate me because of something I can’t control?”

“Clary, nobody hates you.” Alec replies, squeezing her hand.

“You did.” She snaps accusingly, face darkening into a sharp glare. “You have. Since the moment I got here.” He flinches, eyes dropping to the floor.

“I don’t hate you. I never hated you.” He says, after a few seconds of gathering his thoughts. “I was wary of you.” He offers as a way of explanation. “Because you came out of nowhere, knew nothing about our world, and yet somehow had The Sight.”

“And because I’m Valentine’s daughter.” Clary mutters darkly.

“Maybe at first.” Alec replies honestly. “I know better now. We all know better, now.” Clary is silent, gnawing on the skin in the inside of her cheek nervously.

“Everyone just calls me Valentine’s daughter.” She finally whispers. “The only people who never…who didn’t ever say it were Jace and Izzy. Not in a hurtful way, at least. People say it like it’s an insult. Like there’s some way I should be able to change it.” Alec frowns and averts his eyes from her bright green ones, knowing he’s been guilty of doing that exact thing. “Even you stopped, after a while.” She acknowledges, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter that Maryse and Robert thought it, because I knew that you, Izzy, and Jace were on my side, even if it was reluctant. But…but Lydia is marrying you, Alec. And she hates me because of my dad.” Alec frowns.

“Did Lydia say something to you?” He asks, producing his stele from his jacket pocket and tracing her Iratze, if only to give himself something else to focus on.

“It was…I was wrong. I came at her in a way I shouldn’t have. It doesn’t matter, anyway.” Clary looks away. “I just…if she doesn’t like me…what if…” She stumbles through half-sentences, eyes watering once more, before she tilts her chin up, almost defiantly, to stare into Alec’s eyes. “I don’t want Lydia’s opinion of me to change anything between me and you.” She finally manages to spit out through the anvil on her chest.

“What?” Alec’s eyes widen, and he is momentarily struck by how vulnerable Clary looks in front of him. “Clary…” He starts, but she plows on, ignoring him.

“It’s taken _so long_ for you to even look at me without that…that disgust in your eyes. We talk now, we…we train together, we go on missions. We’re a team.” She winces and takes a shaky breath. “What if you get married, and Lydia changes your mind?”

“Fray…” Alec trails off and gives a half-hearted laugh, even as her words pierce him to his soul. “I’m not going to suddenly hate you because of a marriage.” _Business partnership._ He shuffles a bit closer to her, reaching out to clasp her hands with his. “You and I are okay. I promise. We’ll always be okay.” He assures her.

“Okay.” Clary whispers, nodding. After a few more deep, shaking breaths, she allows Alec to help her stand. “Okay. I think I need sleep.” She turns to him, gives him a shaky smile that he returns reassuringly, before disappearing down the hall and into her room. He waits until her door is closed before he spins on his heel and strides to the office, where Lydia is perched behind the desk diligently scrolling through something on her tablet.

“Can I talk to you?” He doesn’t wait for her to answer, closing the door behind him and striding across the room.

“Oh, sure.” Lydia looks up in surprise. “Take a seat.” She gestures to one of the chairs across the desk, but Alec doesn’t sit, instead crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Clary.” Lydia opens her mouth to respond, but Alec holds a hand up to halt her. “I don’t want to know. It’s not my business. But I’d like to get one thing straight. Clary is Jocelyn Fairchild’s daughter, and if I hear you refer to her as Valentine’s Daughter again, you and I are going to have problems. Her parentage isn’t something she can control, and it’s time for people to stop holding that against her.” He doesn’t wait for her response, only spins on his heel and exits the room, closing the door behind him as he does. And if Lydia Branwell is a little bit nicer to Clary afterwards, well, he just shrugs at anyone who asks.


End file.
